


A girl can always dream

by monkshoodr



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 04:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkshoodr/pseuds/monkshoodr
Summary: "The bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret; we make up our minds every night to leave it early, but we make up our bodies every morning to keep it late." - Charles Caleb Colton





	A girl can always dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bullpen_Antics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullpen_Antics/gifts).



> For Bullpen_Antics, who requested bed sharing.
> 
> Title from a quote in a Susan Orlean article: “I would like to make sleeping my new hobby, except that I'm too tired, really, to have a hobby. But a girl can always dream.”

The thing is, Ginny could probably count the number of times she’d shared a bed with someone on her fingers, and still have some fingers to spare.

 

At least four of those instances involved being forced to share with her brother on a family road trip - back when her family actually took vacations together. She had not-so-fond memories of sleeping top-to-tail on lumpy motel mattresses, fighting for the covers and spending most of the night trying to avoid getting kicked in the face.

 

When she was with Trevor, they were usually on the road in different towns. Even when they were in the same place on the same day, they kept things so tightly under wraps that they only ever saw each other for a few hours at a time and never actually spent a full night in each other’s company.

 

Her relationship with Noah, if you could even call it that, had fizzled so quickly after her injury that they’d only slept together - really sleeping, that is - just the one time.

 

Ginny barely even had any experience sleeping in the same room as someone else. She and Will each had their own rooms growing up. For her entire baseball career, from high school to the Padres, she’d been the only woman on a team of men. While there were many personal disadvantages to her trailblazing career, one of the few perks was the guarantee of a private room for every away game.

 

In the majors, everyone got their own room, but she’d heard enough complaints during her years in the minors about having to share hotel rooms with teammates who snored, or talked, or had phone sex (or in person sex) while the other person was in the room. None of the talk ever made her think she should want to share a bed, or even a room, with someone else.

 

Even the people she knew in relationships didn’t seem to enjoy sleeping in the same bed as their partners.

 

(“Ginny, I’m going to smother my husband with a pillow if he doesn’t get over this man cold soon.” Evelyn complained over coffee as the two of them flipped through menu design options in the construction chaos that was slowly transforming into a restaurant. “His snoring is louder than that buzzsaw.”)

 

(“Icy cold feet, I’m telling you, man.” Salvamini told Dusty as he spotted him bench pressing. “I’m pretty sure she damaged my balls last night tucking her cold ass toes against them.”

 

“That’s okay,” Voorhies grunted as he replaced the bar. “You’ve got enough kids already, anyway.”)

 

It couldn’t be all bad though, could it? With the right person? Assuming they didn’t snore, or kick you during the night, or wake you up really early in the morning? Once she’d fallen asleep babysitting Gabe and Marcus, and woke to Blip and Evelyn standing over the three of them puppy piled on the floor. Even with the hard surface beneath her and Gabe’s elbow pushing hard into her kidney, she felt warm and safe, and a little sad when Evelyn ushered them all to bed.

 

She’d never really considered what Mike would be like as a bed partner. Okay, she was big enough to admit there had been fantasies over the years about what he’d be like in bed. (Fantasies that had become distressingly frequent since the night of his almost-trade.) But none of those fantasies involved actually _sleeping_. The thought of just sleeping in a bed with Mike seemed too...everything. Too intimate. Too permanent. Too far beyond lust and too much like lo…

 

Sure, she’d seen him sleep - quite a lot, in fact - on physio tables, on the plane, once she’d found him sleeping propped up against a wall outside the gym during a rain delay. Mike Lawson could go pro at napping. She knew enough to know he didn’t snore, or talk, or drool, and that he barely even moved. Once on the plane, he was so still she was sure he’d stopped breathing.

 

This seemed so different was all she could think as she stared at the bed. He looked just as still as she was used to, lying flat on his back on the mattress, one hand resting high on his abdomen as the other arm stretched out toward the empty space beside him. Even though she knew he was wearing boxers and a t-shirt, the fact that he was covered by a sheet, and the darkness of the room made her feel like she was spying on him naked.

 

Ginny didn’t know what to do.

 

* * *

 

It had all started a few hours earlier. Their final game of the three-game series against the Dodgers started at 1 pm.

 

Ginny pitched a solid five and a third innings, scoring a “good work, kid,” from the skip as he sent her off the mound. The Padres had padded her lead in the seventh, Mike sending Robles home with a double deep to right.

 

“Gotta work on that speed, old man.” Ginny teased as he returned to the dugout after being stranded on second. “For anyone else that hit would have been a triple.”

 

“No respect, Baker,” he narrowed his eyes as he gave her a swift swat on the ass with his batting gloves. “You should be nicer to people who protect your ‘W’.”

 

“I’m always nice to Omar, Lawson.”

 

She’d come away with the win in the end. The Padres finished their ice baths and press interviews, ate their post-game meal and showered, dressing in comfy clothes for their bus ride home. They were all on the bus, ready to head back to San Diego by 8 pm, excited to be arriving home before midnight for once.

 

The drive started just fine. Most of the players had their headphones in, listening to music or watching something on their tablets. There was a group of Padres playing poker in the back of the bus, and the Skip and Buck were comparing notes for the upcoming home series against the Cardinals.

 

She was sitting in her usual seat beside Mike, but instead of talking to her, he was leaning almost across her body to argue with Livan about prepping for the game he was going to catch the day after tomorrow.

 

“You can’t let Butch push you around out there,” Mike argued. “But he’ll keep doing it if you make those kinds of calls. Study the heat maps. And if you want to get creative, let him know the strategy. He’s pretty good at following the plan, unlike this one.” Mike gestured in her direction, almost jabbing her in the collarbone because he was so close.

 

“Why are we stopping?” Ginny noticed the slow breaking around the same time Blip spoke from behind her.

 

Ginny pulled herself up to look out the window, only seeing brake lights up ahead.

 

* * *

 

It was a few hours before they got off the highway, barely having traveled a few miles beyond where they’d originally stopped. The roads to San Diego had all been closed due to forest fire, stranding the Padres bus, and hundreds of cars, along the way.

 

Local homeowners and a small community centre opened their doors to stranded drivers, providing a place to stay until the roads reopened. The Padres, split into smaller groups, were assigned homes in the same neighbourhood.

 

Ginny, Mike, Sonny, and Javanes were escorted to the door of a modest ranch-style house on about an acre of land. Despite how tired she was, Ginny almost laughed out loud at the looks on the faces of the Perkins family when they realized who their houseguests were. She was sure they were suddenly aware that their kind act of generosity was going to be rewarded with signed memorabilia and season tickets.

 

“We only have the one guest bedroom, I’m afraid,” Mrs. Perkins apologized as she ushered them into the house, tying her housecoat tighter around her waist and directing them to where they could remove their shoes. “But it has a bed and a couch, and tons of blankets and pillows if you don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” She directed them to the room, pausing to opening a cupboard full of linens.

 

“Honestly, even the floor sounds good about now,” Sonny said, dropping his bag to the ground.

 

“Bathroom’s just through there,” Mrs. Perkins pointed. “We passed the kitchen on the way in. Feel free to grab a drink, or something, if you need.”

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Perkins,” Mike turned on the charm. “This is above and beyond what we could have expected. Especially when we rudely interrupt your sleep in the middle of the night.”

 

“Well, give us a shout if you need anything,” she gave a little wave as she shut the door. “Goodnight.”

 

The four of them stared at each other, then the room, and back to each other. Ginny could practically hear Javanes thinking about yelling ‘dibs’.

 

“Old Man Lawson gets the bed,” Sonny said, glaring at all of them to dissuade any arguing. “I refuse to pitch to Livan the day after no sleep. Your back will not survive a night on the floor, or that lumpy looking couch.”

 

Mike opened his mouth, probably to make some chivalrous claim about how she should take the bed.

 

“Nope, he’s right.” Ginny interrupted before he could speak. “I’m the youngest, and the smallest, and I don’t have to play for four more days. You’re taking the bed.”

 

“Smallest is right,” Javanes eyed the couch. "I think you’re the only one of us who could fit on that without some sort of contortionism. I guess Sonny and I get the floor.”

 

“You do realize it’s a double bed, right?” Ginny looked between the three of them. “You could share?”

 

They all looked at her like she was crazy. “Pffft. Men.”

 

* * *

 

This was the most uncomfortable couch she’d ever been on. There were at least two springs digging into her side, and the cushions keep sliding forward, threatening to trap her in the gap between them and the back of the couch. There was no way she could get to sleep, not like this.  
  
The floor would be fine, really, if there was space available. Sonny and Javanes are both big guys, and between them and the furniture, the only available spot would put her half in the bathroom.

 

But the bed? That was tempting. All that space, beside a warm body, and covered in crisp white sheets. Could she?

 

Mike would lose his mind. She’s not sure what would drive him more crazy, the fact that she would do that in public - where Sonny and Javanes could start rumours on the team, or where the Perkins family could start rumours in the press - or the fact that she would do it at all.

 

Sonny wouldn’t mind. Not really. He’d give them both disapproving looks, and probably a lecture or two, but that would turn into teasing after a few days.

 

Javanes would...well, that was a bit of a wildcard. He wouldn’t be thrilled, that’s for sure. But he at least saw her as one of the guys, and could maybe be persuaded to see the situation for what it was - practical, not scandalous.

 

What are the chances she’d wake up first, and be able to slip out before anyone noticed? Probably not great.

 

Another spring popped somewhere in the couch, poking hard into her hip, and she was decided. Ginny slowly brought her feet to the floor, wrapping her blanket tight around her shoulders like a cape. She stepped over Sonny’s legs, tiptoeing carefully across the carpet until she was right beside the bed.

 

Ginny stared for a long time, trying to check that Mike was really asleep, and wouldn’t wake up if she jostled him. His breathing was slow and even, chest rising and falling softly under his soft practice shirt. She lowered herself gently onto the bed, positioning herself carefully on top of the covers, and adjusting her blanket to cover her down to her toes. Slowly, so very slowly, she eased backwards until her head met the pillow.

 

She wanted to roll on her side to stare at him. Ginny so rarely had the chance to study him when he looked so relaxed. But that was too much temptation for right now, when her guard was down enough that she was willing to make such a risky decision as to get into Mike Lawson’s bed. She turned in the other direction instead, letting his radiating heat warm her back as she finally let herself sleep.

 

* * *

 

Ginny woke slowly in the morning, and it took her brain time to realize that things weren’t normal. She felt cozy and warm, so she felt comfortable keeping her eyes closed as she took stock of the situation. This wasn’t her bed, but she was used to that from a life on the road. The sheets were well worn and softer than the ones at the hotel, and the morning light was coming from a different direction than she was used to.

 

She leaned back into the warmth behind her, and realized it went all the way around. Like an arm reaching around….

 

Ginny’s eyes flew open.

 

Shit.

 

She was in Mike Lawson’s arms. In a bed. In a room with two of their teammates. In a stranger’s house.

 

SHIT.

 

Mike Lawson’s arm was curled around her body, his huge hands spanning her belly under clothes, pressed directly against her skin. His pinky finger was tucked inside the waistband of her sleep shorts touching the sharp jut of her hip bone, and his thumb, spread high in the other direction, was barely stroking the underside of her ribs.

 

His entire front was pulled tight against her back, his knees nestled into the space behind hers. She could feel his breath soft on the back of her neck, as his nose gently parted her hair.

 

And there, pressed into the cleft of her ass, she could feel the proof to all the rumours about Mike Lawson. So much proof.

 

She would blame her distraction over his assets for not realizing that he was in the process of waking up. Ginny almost squeaked when his arm tightened, and his head moved forward enough that she could feel the soft stroke of beard on her ear and cheek.

 

“Gi….” The rest of Mike’s body went stiff.

 

Well, he was awake now.

 

Ginny suddenly realized that she was holding his arm in place, and had been holding it there the entire time. She couldn’t make herself let go, feeling out of control as she spread her fingers wide to slide into the spaces between his.

 

“I couldn’t sleep on the couch.” She whispered, barely making any sound. “And I figured….I wanted….I…”

 

“Ginny…” her name came out on a sigh. He hadn’t called her that since the night last August.

 

“I don’t….”

 

“You make the call,” he reminded. “But this can’t happen again without a talk.” Despite his words he swayed forward, unable to stop himself from brushing his lips against the skin of her jaw.

 

“Mike...I…”

 

A snort from Sonny made both of them jump and look at each other in horror. Quickly letting go so Ginny could scramble back to the couch. Mike groaned and turned to the edge of the bed, hoisting himself off to head to the bathroom. Ginny closed her eyes tight to keep herself from watching him walk away.

 

* * *

 

He seemed to know that she needed space to think and process. He kept at least one player in between them for the rest of the day, dropping himself into the seat beside Blip once they finally got back on the bus to head on their way.

 

Blip gave both of them a suspicious look, but shrugged it off when Mike started asking him about how the kitchen was coming at the restaurant.

 

They didn’t talk during the game, and Ginny chose to hang out with Butch in the bullpen, talking technique on sliders and doing everything to avoid thinking about the night before.

 

Later that night, she found herself in her own bed, surrounded by her usual nest of blankets, but unable to sleep.

 

Mike answered her call on the first ring, but kept silent, letting her start the talk.

 

“So, I….I’ve never slept with anyone before.” Ginny powered through the choking sound Mike made. “Actually sleeping, I mean. I’m pretty used to sleeping alone, and I’ve always liked having a bed to myself.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“But last night, I...look Old Man, what I’m saying is that I can see that there could be advantages to sharing a bed.”

 

“There could,” he agreed, but it was almost a question. Like he wasn’t sure where she was going with this, or what he really was saying yes to.

 

“And I think I would like to try sharing a bed some more, to see if it could be something I’d want to do on a more permanent basis.”

 

“Oh you would, would you?” She could almost see the smug ass grin she knew was showing on his face.

 

“Yeah, I would.”

 

“Might be pretty permanent.” His voice was like nothing she’d ever heard from him before. Smug and happy, but so, so vulnerable. “You better be sure of this call before you make the play.”

 

She smiled, fully dimpled with joy. “Can I come over?”

 

“Anytime, Ginny.”


End file.
